I snorted into my drink, holding back a cough. Connie O’Reilly’s—”I’m what?”
“Sorry—” Julia laughed when my cheeks reddened. “Sorry, sorry—that’s—that’s what I’ve heard some people call you. Aidan, for one—and some girls from school. Just because, I dunno, I guess you follow her around all the time, maybe?”
“Her lapdog? I’m not—” I shook my head and huffed. Desperate to change the conversation I glanced down at her empty hands. “Come on. Do you want to get a drink?” I led her, still laughing, into the packed kitchen, pointing toward the counter where all of the bottles had been laid out.
“I’ve never actually had a drink before,” she confessed. “A full one, anyway. Beer is horrible. Spirits…I’ve never really tried.”
“Well….” I found myself unable to take my eyes off of hers. My heart st
